


Deja Vu

by asingerofsongs, MayGlenn



Series: Stars and Skies [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Annoyed BB-8, Battle, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cut the Chatter, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Finn is a warrior and Poe is so turned on, Finn just wants to sleep, Fluff and Angst, Flyboys, Hurt!Finn, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Old Injuries, Panic Attacks, Post-Battle, Protective Poe Dameron, Sassy Pilots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:44:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6220504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asingerofsongs/pseuds/asingerofsongs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That counts as three!" Jess whooped.</p><p>"That counts as one, you only shot one," Snap said back, followed by:</p><p>"Counts as three, she's right," from Poe. "Ground leader—Finn, that's you—you have ten seconds," he added, and Finn's second-in-command looked over at him with a grin.</p><p>"I know that's me," Finn grumbled, "Confirm ten seconds."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Finn experienced an eerie sort of deja vu the first time ground troops under his command raided a First Order supply warehouse. He was standing in the dispatch ship, waiting for it to land and let them all out, and it reminded him so strongly of the landing on Jakku that he started, knocking into one of his troops.

And then voices crackled over his earpiece—Black Squadron, nearby (and shortly to be overhead), taking pot-shots at some TIEs that had been dispatched to hassle them—snapping him out of it.

"That counts as three!" Jess whooped.

"That counts as _one_ , you only shot _one_ ," Snap said back, followed by:

"Counts as three, she's right," from Poe. "Ground leader—Finn, that's you—you have ten seconds," he added, and Finn's second-in-command looked over at him with a grin.

"I know that's _me_ ," he grumbled, "Confirm ten seconds. You're covering us?"

"Nah, thought we'd let the B-Team—excuse me, the B- _Wings_ —get some practice in," Poe said playfully, and Finn rolled his eyes at the chatter _that_ started. "Of course we're covering you. Three, two," the voice cut out as the craft engaged its reverse engines and touched down, shots already pinging off the hull. Finn heard X-Wings screeching past, and the shots stopped.

"You're clear!" Poe called over his headset, and the troops spilled out of the three landing crafts, blasters firing.

Poe flew Black One dangerously low and tilted at an angle BB-8 did _not_ approve of just so he could see Finn clear the drop. The wave of white stormtroopers on the other side of that wall made him sick, and he fired on them before he _had_ to pull up. "Uh, you've got some company over that wall, buddy. The one with the big hole in it!"

"Cut the chatter, Black Leader."

"Snap, damn you, that's _my_ line. I get to say when we cut the chatter!" Poe whined back: "Whoa!" He bucked up the nose of his X-Wing as he almost collided with the TIE after him, and he spun casually to chase it. There were only three left, so how bad could it be? he wondered, craning his neck again to check on the ground troops.

"Need any help there, Poe?"

"I'm good, I got this. I want to touch down and give our boys a hand down there."

"Not part of the mission, Lover Boy," Jess told him, though she sounded excited to take care of the (now two, thank you, Snap) TIEs in the air.

Poe took care of his problem TIE and saw two of the newer recruits chasing after the last TIE, whooping and hollering.

"Okay, listen, you guys cover me, I'm gonna land and go kiss my boyf—WHOA! WHOA! SHIT WE GOT INCOMING, I REPEAT WE HAVE MULTIPLE CONT—"

The rest was lost in a hail of blaster fire as a fresh squadron of TIEs rose up out of an underground bunker.

Finn was too busy with his own problems—namely, more than a handful of stormtroopers and some panicky cadets—when he heard a new hail of fire overhead that could only mean the TIEs had backup. 

"Left wing, fall back, middle, we'll cover them. Right one, join the left, and right two, join middle," he told his troops, and they pulled into a tighter group. Unfortunately, it made them easier to hit, and one of the big guns took advantage of the situation, taking out a good half of the right wing that hadn't moved quick enough. Finn closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths—he needed to keep his troops together, protect his subordinates who were relying on him to understand the strategy here.

"TAKE THEIR GUNS, NOW! MOVE!" he shouted to his remaining troops, and they surged toward the gun that had fired on them moments earlier.

Above them:

"There's too many of them!" Gray Leader shouted.

"That's just the kind of talk I'd expect from a Y-Wing pilot," Poe sassed, having come out of the hail of blaster fire with... "Shit. Thanks, BB-8. Guys, my weapons are down. You sure we can’t fix that, Bee—all right, all right!" Poe replied to the frankly obscene tirade he was enduring from his astromech.

"Get out of here, Black Leader, you can't do us any good firing blanks!" Iolo told him.

"Oh you did _not_ just make this into a—” (“That’s what she said!” Jess cackled in delight.) “Watch me!" Poe said, picking up a TIE on his tail and having it chase him against the planet surface where the more unwieldy TIE clipped a rock and spun out. "Snap, you got one on your eight! Gray-fiver, help him out!" he shouted, careening back into the furball to break things up, though he felt like a jackass doing so without any weapons.

"Finn? Finn, Ground Leader, how you doing down there?" he asked.

"Could use some help with the two big guns on either end!" Finn suggested, "You know, if you want to just crash a TIE into one or two of them, _since you have no weapons and should get out of here_!" Finn grabbed one of his recruits and dragged her to the ground when her blaster overheated and jammed. "Let it cool, then _aim_ and fire, this isn't one of your hologames," he told her, and she nodded grimly. Finn clapped her on the shoulder and then tapped four of his more experienced soldiers on the shoulders. "We're getting that gun," he informed them, pointing to the next one over. They waited until their own troops were covering them and then jumped from their current gun, running low toward the next.

The fight for the gun was brief, and nearly ended badly when two stormtroopers recognized Finn and made it their mission to end him. He knocked one down, but the other swung a kick at him, slamming his armored shin into Finn's back and knocking him sprawling even as one of his men shot the trooper in the chest.

"Finn!" Poe's voice grew urgent as he cleared the furball, BB-8 whistling shrilly in his ear to never do that again, ever, ever. "Answer me, Ground Leader!"

"I'm fine," Finn said a little breathlessly (he really wasn't, his back was throbbing), and grabbed the hand that his squadmate offered to help him up. 

"Poe, you got three on your tail!"

"Oh, super! If it was any more than three I'd be in trouble! _Somebody get over here and wipe my ass already_!" Poe said, dropping into a tight spin in the hopes he could get the TIEs to clip each other—but they weren’t quite that stupid.

Once on his feet, Finn looked up, finding—of course—Poe, with three TIEs on him, and no one nearby to help.  Jess was dealing with her own two, and Snap had one that he was trying to avoid while chasing Jess' two. "Poe! Hey! To me!" Finn shouted, scrambling for the seat of the giant gun and motioning for his men to get down. He brought the gun about, swinging it to follow one of the TIEs on Poe's tail.

"Where are you?" Poe said, coming out of the spin disoriented, though he did manage to lose one of the TIEs, leaving only two. Only two! "Finn, coordinates—holy shit, are you on that _kriffing gun_?" he cackled, jinking and weaving to dodge the blaster fire and quite possibly getting _turned on_ by all of this.

Finn watched Poe lose one of the trailing TIEs and continue to dodge the other two. "You bet I am!" he shouted back, "Now get over here! Come in low, and peel off to starboard. Please don't hit us," he told Poe, and bent to look through the sight again, judging his distance.

" _Their_ guns are fine, and you have no shields. I think this is a stupid plan, Finn!" Poe said, but he did as told. "There is going to be a split-second window, I don't want them within firing line of you guys, so be ready! Coming in hot!" he cried, whooping as he careened toward the planet surface. In the blur of motion, a flash of Finn manning that really fucking big gun was probably the hottest thing he had ever seen and if this didn't work and he died he would definitely die happy. "Finn, start shooting on my mark. Even if I'm still in front of you, got that?” There was no time for confirmation before: “MARK!"

"Mark!" Finn called back, and opened fire. He missed Poe by less than a meter, but didn't miss the first TIE or the second, because they weren't expecting their own gun to fire on them.

Unfortunately, physics dictated that the TIEs keep moving, careening toward the ground far too close to the big gun.

So Finn shot them again—better a fireball thirty feet away than bits of TIE fighter in his lap.

The TIEs exploded, one after the other, and some shrapnel flew in their direction, but there was plenty of shelter to be had behind the gun.  Miraculously, no one was seriously injured, although when Finn looked to the three others with him, they had bumps and bruises and cuts that he knew were mirrored to an extent on his own body. His own men taken care of, he looked again to the sky. "Alright, Poe?" he asked, and heard Jess instead. 

"That's the last of them," she said, "Poe is fine. Maybe having an orgasm after that stunt, though," she added with a laugh.

Poe was screaming at the top of his lungs, the rush of adrenaline at his near escape and Finn's excellent shooting were, well, basically the entire reason he was a pilot in the first place. Over the chatter he heard Finn's voice, and he touched his Comm on: "I'm here, Finn! That was some nice shooting! We're gonna clean up this mess and I'll see you back on base!"

With the TIEs taken care of and stormtroopers under control, larger frigates made their landing while Black, Gray, and Blade squadrons made hawk-circles up in the air. Pilots and soldiers alike waited until the needed supplies from this raid were loaded, and Poe had Snap lead Black Squadron so he could take up the rear with the freighter that carried the ground troops.

"Private channel to Ground Leader," Poe said, and BB-8 scrambled the comm. "Finn, I kriffing love you, buddy. You okay? Seriously, you okay? You were amazing. You're not hurt are you?"

Finn shook his head fondly at Poe's worrying. "Yeah, I'm a bit banged up," maybe a little more than a bit, he thought. His back was killing him, and he'd really have liked to sit down, but that wasn't an option. "Nothing permanent, though," he clarified. "Are you okay?  That was some fancy flying you did out there!"

Poe sighed, relieved. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. BB-8's gonna kill me and Black One might never forgive me, but I'm all right. Can't wait to see you back at base, buddy. If you're good, I'll kiss you in front of everybody." Poe watched as Finn boarded the transport, last of all his men, and his heart swelled. "I'm right behind you."

Someone else broke in on their line, and he heard General Organa's voice: "Dameron, Finn, you are to report to my office as soon as you reach base," she said, and then was gone, without any further direction.

"...She sounds kind of angry," Finn said. "Poe, you want to get Jess to help you, in case there are any TIEs left around?" Finn asked, mildly concerned that Poe's weapons were down.

"What, you don't trust me?" Poe laughed, and opened his channel again. "Gray Leader, can you get back here and cover my ass?"

"Aw yeah, beggin' help from Gray Squadron. I like the sound of that, Commander!"

Poe rolled his eyes, but they made it back to base unharmed.


	2. Chapter 2

Poe popped the canopy, rolled back, kissed BB-8 on the top of their domed head, patted Black One's hull with an apology and a promise to see to her later, and fell out of the cockpit before the ground crew could even get the ladder up. He sprinted at the dispatch ship. "Finn! _Finn_!" he cried, spotting him at the back, limping slightly. "Finn! Buddy, you were amazing!" he cried, rushing into his arms and grabbing his face to kiss him.

Finn smiled and buried his fingers in Poe's hair, kissing him maybe a little desperately. "Not that I was worried, but..." he rested his forehead against Poe's, "...But maybe I was worried. Just a little." He took Poe's hand as they walked to General Organa's office, but dropped it when they walked in and she was glaring at them.

“General—” Poe began, opening his arms wide as if for a hug, or as if to say _I can explain…_

"That was a foolish, ridiculous stunt, and you're lucky both of you weren't killed," she snapped at them, and Finn recoiled, glancing over at Poe.

Poe dropped his arms, barely refraining from shrugging. "Worked, didn't it?" He was still riding dangerously high on being alive and having Finn and kicking First Order ass, and he knew the General could sense that.

She gave them each a hard look, but while Finn looked a bit ashamed, Poe couldn't stop grinning. It was times like these that Poe reminded him of Han Solo, which, come to think of it, might explain why the General hadn’t killed him yet…

She eventually rolled her eyes. "Get out of here. I'll punish you later," she growled. "The mission seems like a success…so I might forget."

"Yes, ma'am," Poe said, and before she could change her mind, he ushered Finn out of the room. "Okay, Finn, you're limping, darling, are you sure okay?"

"I'm fine," Finn answered, confused that they'd been in trouble and then...not been in trouble?  He wasn't sure what was going on. Limping wasn't helping his back, had never helped his back, but the limited range of motion was enough to remind him that he was lucky he was even _here_ and that he could walk. He just wanted to go back to his and Poe's room and deal with his wounds, if they could really be dealt with, in private.

"Stop, Finn, you're not fine. I mean, you _fine_ , but—" And okay, Finn didn't even laugh, something was wrong. "I'm gonna take you to medical. Is it your back?"

" _No_. I don't—Poe, that's completely unnecessary. I just ran into something, I think. It's okay," he said, attempting to reassure Poe while avoiding going back to medical. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Dr. K, and he trusted her more than any of the medical staff he’d known in the First Order, but she’d insist on poking at him and checking his back and it would _hurt_ , he could tell by how his back already ached. If his back was going to make it difficult for him to move, he wanted to be somewhere he felt safe.  At this point, the only place he felt safe enough to maybe just rest was their room. He was already on the uncomfortable edge of panic; going to medical would put him right over the edge.

Poe's brow wrinkled, but he nodded firmly. "Okay. Okay, Finn. Will you lean on me?" Now he was getting a good look at him, he saw cuts and bruises all over his body, and—no _wonder_ the General hadn't punished him. This was worse. He'd rather clean every toilet in the base than see Finn look like this. He gulped, sensing Finn's panic rising in his short, quick breaths as he stared at nothing. "Hey, Finn? Finn, look at me," he said quietly, walking backwards to their room. "Look at me, and breathe. You're okay." He gave him a hopeful smile and got them to their room.

Finn did his best, looking at Poe and forcing himself to take a few deep breaths, a corner of his mind recognizing that panicking wouldn't help, and was completely out of line.  He was safe here, after all. They weren't being attacked, his back was _fine_ , he was _fine_ , and Poe was _fine_. He took a few more deep breaths, not taking his eyes off of Poe.

Inside their rooms, Poe shut the door. In the quiet he took Finn gingerly in his arms and kissed him again. "Finn, I've got you. You're safe, you're with me. Can you tell me what hurts?" Poe began easing off Finn's tactical gear and his jacket, his hands shaking. He wasn't going to let Finn into combat after this. He could learn to fly transports, or cook, or work intelligence—there were more ways than one to help the Resistance, and Poe couldn't believe he had been so stupid as to let Finn back into a battle like that after—after how they had met!

In their rooms, the door safely shut and locked, Finn dropped most of the pretense he'd been keeping up that he was fine. He tensed when Poe wrapped his arms around him, but he registered that he was asking him what hurt. "N-nothing," he responded, because wasn't that what he was supposed to say? He was fine. He just needed sleep, probably.

" _No_ , no," Poe said, hovering in front of Finn's vision. He was doing that stormtrooper bullshit, staring at a fixed point, back straight even though it was killing him. "Finn, _please_ ," he begged squeezing his shoulders. "You don't have to pretend anymore, Finn, you're with _me_ , please." His voice broke slightly, and he turned around, helpless, lighting on the canteen of water by the bed. "Drink this? Clear your head?" If he could only get him to sit down!

Finn blinked at the water several times before drinking it. It was cold, and he hadn't realized he was thirsty, but it tasted as good as anything he'd ever had.

"Back hurts," he finally growled, then: "Help me?" This was Poe, he kept reminding himself. Yes, his back hurt, yes, it reminded him of those weeks spent in medical and in physiotherapy, but it only hurt because someone had kicked him—no lightsabers, this time. He'd be fine, but he needed to rest. And he needed to not fight with Poe, who was only trying to help.

"Good, good," Poe said, rubbing the back of Finn's neck gently. "Your back? Okay, buddy, can you tell me what happened?" Poe guided Finn to the bed. "Can you sit for me, Finn?"

"Kicked me, right...not sure where," Finn said as he sat, holding himself at the only angle that didn't hurt. It was awkward, almost painfully straight, but relaxing and hunching forward made everything worse. "Just hurts." He was dragging himself back, little by little, using Poe's voice as an anchor.

"Okay, okay, that's fine, good, we can deal with that. Thanks for telling me," Poe said, beginning to breathe easier. Maybe this wasn't a full-blown flashback or regression (he remembered that time Finn had woken up saying his name was FN-2187 and didn't know who Poe was and Poe had had to _order_ him to go back to sleep and the worst part was _it worked_ ), just the pain from his old wound awoken. That...wasn't much better, okay, but at least Finn knew who he was this time. "Finn, can you tell me who I am? Just—concussion check."

The concussion question, incongruent with everything else as it was, earned Poe an indignant frown. "I didn't hit my _head_ , Poe," Finn told him.

"Poe _what_?" Poe pressed, and then winked. "Just kidding. Here, take these," he said, giving Finn some pills. "I'm gonna get you undressed and lay you down and take care of you, yeah? Okay?” There was a commotion at the door. “BB-8, we're kinda busy in here— _no,_ not like _that_ ," he hissed, glad that Finn still didn't understand binary well. "Can you get me another med kit and grab us some rations, please? Anything. Thanks, BB."

BB-8 still sounded pissed, but they were a good droid, deep down.

"Okay, Finn, easy," Poe said as he eased the jacket off his shoulders, and the shirt up over his head. "Try not to move, let me help you."

Finn tensed, almost as unhappy with Poe touching his sore back as he would have been with the doctor doing it. But he let Poe get his shirt off without arguing about it, and laid down on his stomach on the bed, trying not to look like he was obviously grinding his teeth. He pulled his hands in and hid them under his stomach so Poe couldn't see them shaking. He wasn't exactly panicking anymore, and he wasn't arguing because he knew when he needed help, and right now he needed help, but it didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

"Hey, you gonna pout at me or let me get your trousers off?" Poe teased, trying not to flinch in response to Finn's reactions to every touch. "Easy, I've got you, I'm here. Your back _looks_ fine, but I'm gonna put something on it." Cold, then hot, probably, and if it didn't work, it was Finn's fault for not letting him take him to medical. "You were great out there, Finn. You saved my ass, like you always do. What would I do without you, huh?" he asked, getting Finn out of his boots and trousers to survey the damage. There were a few cuts that needed dressing, and bruises that needed cold compresses, too, but luckily BB-8 arrived just in time. Since Finn wasn't responding, Poe began humming as he worked, saving the nasty scar on Finn's back for last.

"You'd get in more trouble," Finn answered, eventually, "Or less. Something to do with trouble." As Poe dealt with the various bruises and cuts elsewhere, Finn calmed down a little. He could only maintain that kind of panic for so long, and it made him tired no matter how long it lasted. Regardless of what his mind wanted him to do his body wanted to relax, and Poe's humming was only making him sleepier.

"Definitely more trouble," Poe said, leaning in. "Gonna kiss your shoulder," he whispered, warning him before doing it. "Okay, you look all right, I'm gonna put something cold on your back, okay? It'll help with any bruising or swelling, probably. Let me know if it hurts, yeah?" Poe took Finn's hand as he applied the slightly sticky cool-pac.

Finn gritted his teeth this time, but nodded to let Poe know that he was listening. He tensed up again as Poe put the cool-pac on his back, even though he'd been warned. "Hurts," he told Poe as the cold seeped through his back, but it soon went numb, and he stopped death-gripping Poe's hand, turning his head slightly to look at him. "It's the scar," he explained, "It's sensitive. Reminds me of when it happened."

Poe nodded slowly, crouching so they could be eye-to-eye, and he kept holding Finn's hand. "The cold should help, I mean—physically.” He paused but decided it was urgent enough to discuss immediately: “Is—is that why I kinda...lost you? Back there? Because otherwise, Finn, we've got to talk about putting you in combat scenarios..."

"I was okay when we were fighting. I... I started panicking, but I stopped. I was okay until my back really started hurting," he said. He was quiet for a few breaths, thinking through what had happened slowly, and then he sighed. "Everyone avoids my back. Almost always," he said. “In training.” In training they didn't want to actually hurt him, and any other time no one wanted to freak him out, and had seen him jump enough times at an accidental brush across his back to know they should avoid that, as well.

Poe nodded, somewhat relieved (a soldier with combat trauma would be its own issue—but no, Finn had only ever objected to killing innocent villagers. He had no actual problem with combat itself). "And the bad guys don't avoid it," he said, nodding grimly. Poe got a clean wipe and started with Finn's face and under his arms and his hands, so he'd feel better for sleeping.

"No they don't," Finn said. He closed his eyes briefly as Poe washed his face with a damp cloth.  "I guess... Do I have to practice that, now?" He sighed. "I have to practice that, now." The question only had one real answer, which meant he should probably get used to Poe touching his back.  He was probably going to collect a whole new set of bruises.

"Practice—what? People hitting you in the back? I was going to recommend tougher armor." Poe laid a hand low on his spine, closer to his ass than the scar. "Can I—ahh—palpate the region?" he said with a huff. "Just to see, and—and we could switch to the hot compress, if it hurts? That'll feel a hell of a lot better. Then I can get into bed with you and you can do that clingy Ewok thing and _I'll_ feel a lot better," he added with a smile.

"If I wear heavier armor, I won't be able to move," Finn said, knowing this was true. He'd become accustomed to the range of motion he'd not always had in stormtrooper armor. "Just... not too hard?" Finn said. He didn't think anything was seriously wrong, but it was worth letting someone else check. "Clingy Ewok thing?" he added, with a soft snort of amusement.

Poe smiled, and, trying to distract him as he brushed his fingers over the scar (he'd never really done this, actually, and it felt strange to touch, and it invoked protective instincts in him that were already flaring), said, "Yeah, where your arms and legs do the clinging Ewok thing. It's really cute, you should see yourself. Much better than the stormtrooper-sleep you used to do, anyway. I like seeing you loosen up." Poe adhered the hot pad on now, knowing it would be warm for at least 20 minutes and stay lukewarm for a few hours, so he could just leave it there overnight. "How's that? Didn't hurt you, did I?"

Finn held very still as Poe checked that no real damage had been done, surprised all over again at just how light Poe's touches could be when he wanted them to. As uncomfortable as he was from being kicked, and as on-edge and raw-nerved as he felt from panicking about his back, Poe's fingers on his back really only registered as tickling, and they certainly didn't add to his discomfort.  The hot pad, in fact, felt nice—so nice that he actually shivered as it warmed where the cold pac had cooled. He took one of Poe's hands and brought it to his lips to kiss his knuckles. "It's warm," he hummed, and, "No, you didn't hurt me. Thank you," he said. He moved, just enough that he could get a better look at Poe. "Are you sure _you're_ okay?" he asked.

Poe beamed at that 'Thank you,' like he'd been given his own fleet of X-Wings. "You're welcome, Finn, and—yeah—I’m fine. Hungry. Maybe I'll be decadent and eat in bed." He shrugged and started undressing. "The _problem_ with being a flyboy is we almost never get sexily wounded. We come out of battle perfectly unharmed or, well, dead, right?" He slid into bed, helping Finn to gingerly move over. "You, on the other hand, you I get to pamper and swoon over after every battle, aren't you lucky? Tend each cut, ice each bruise. And I find scars very sexy." He pressed a kiss to Finn's temple.

"That's good, because that one isn't going anywhere," Finn responded. "Also, I can't say I dislike the idea of you just...not getting injured. That seems pretty great." But he'd swoon over him anyway, because Poe deserved all the swooning and pampering in the world. "'M I allowed to be a 'clinging Ewok' now?" he asked when it looked like Poe might be more-or-less settled for the time being. All Finn really wanted to do was sleep, now...he'd just eat in the morning.

Poe laughed, rubbing Finn's head. "Yeah. Yeah, definitely, c'mere," he said, trying to avail himself for whatever position felt best for Finn. "I gave you the good painkillers, so you just sleep when you need to, K?"

Was _that_ why he was so tired? Finn had been assuming it was the combined effect of everything, but strong painkillers actually made a lot of sense. He nodded, squirming around until he was comfortable; one arm ended up thrown across Poe's waist, and their legs were tangled in a way Finn couldn't quite figure out when he was this tired, and he had not-so-subtly managed to end up with one side of his face near Poe's ribs, where he could hear his heartbeat if he was very quiet.  "Love you," he mumbled sleepily.

"Love you, too," Poe murmured, tracing patterns on the back of Poe's hand that rested on his chest. "Can I put my hand here?" he asked, resting it between Finn's shoulder blades, above the scar.

"Yeah," Finn said, or thought he said, but maybe he just nodded a little vaguely. He wasn't really sure, but whatever he did, Poe must've understood it as a yes, because his hand stayed there at least until Finn was too asleep to notice if it moved.

Poe smiled as he felt Finn drift off. BB-8 came in whistling, but Finn was so far gone Poe didn't bother shushing his droid, and accepted the lecture about crazy stunts that was frankly worse than anything the General could have given him, before BB-8 all but shot a protein bar at him, which he munched on happily before he joined Finn in sleep, asking BB-8 to get the lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and please let us know what you think! In the next part of the series, Poe takes Finn on their first date and things do not go smoothly, so stay tuned!


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